


if i had the stars of the darkest night

by deadbrave



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28743075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadbrave/pseuds/deadbrave
Summary: andy’s always writing letters. how he describes eddie depends on who he’s sending them to.
Relationships: Andrew A. "Ack-Ack" Haldane/Edward "Hillbilly" Jones
Comments: 12
Kudos: 11
Collections: Loose Lips Sink Ships Prompt Meme





	1. january 16th, 1943.

Allison Haldane

160 Edgewood Ave

Methuen, MA

01844 

  
  


Mom, 

Despite all the horrible things you’re probably hearing about Guadalcanal in the papers, I’m alive and unharmed, which I know was your biggest concern. Yes, I’m eating, so you don’t have to worry or try and send me packages of food via expensive postage (though Gunney Haney did very much appreciate the chocolates you sent last time). 

You wouldn’t recognize your boy if you saw me now. I know I’ve always said I wasn’t fond of facial hair because of how much it itches when it grows in, but I was convinced to grow a mustache during a competition that I’d spurred on to keep morale high. I’m not sure that it fits my face, but I think it would make Leslie laugh, so I’m keen on keeping it until the war is over just to see the severity of mocking I will endure from my sister. 

This man saved my life, on the Canal. An NCO from another company, Edward Jones. I don’t think he’s aware that he did, but because of that, and other actions I saw him take part in, I put in for him to get a promotion. It’s a long shot but if anyone deserves to be an officer, it’s someone like him. I know plenty of officers who **[REDACTED]**. 

We’re in Melbourne now, if you can believe that. Australia! It’d almost be a vacation if it weren’t for the war going on around us. I wish you and Leslie were here, you’d love it. The sky’s so blue and the sun’s always shining, not like in Meuthen. I know it must be something awful back home; just know that I’d trade places with you if I could, I’m sure you’d rather be sunbathing with the Aussies instead of shoveling snow. 

Re: Leslie getting bullied in school--tell her that she has to stand up to them if she wants them to stop, confronting problems head-on is the only solution, especially with bullies. And if she really wants to hurt them, she should use that one move I taught her--it’s not very ladylike, but it gets the job done. 

I miss you more than I can say. Give my love to everyone. I’m sending all the sunshine and warmth I can from where I am. 

Love, 

Andrew 

  
  
  



	2. may 22nd, 1943.

Paul Nixon 

Dean of Students

Bowdoin College

255 Main Street

Brunswick, ME 

04011

  
  


Dear Dean, 

At last, I have a moment to write and let you know I’m still ticking. We have had a hell of a snap, but again we came out on top. It doesn’t pay to lose in this game. K Company has taken refuge in Melbourne, now, and somehow the war feels as though it’s happened years ago despite the knowledge that we will surely return to the South Pacific in due time. Days are filled with drills while nights and weekends are determined by flights of fancy. It’s mildly reminiscent of my years at Bowdoin, however, I was naive to the dangers of the world back then. 

Despite the hostility of the militaristic environment, you’d be proud of the fact that I’ve managed to befriend a number of other men, including a world trodden Gunnery Sergeant who’s a little off the cob and scares most of the enlisted men but is in general very amusing, an eager young NCO who can be quite the gas and a newly instated Lieutenant that I crossed paths with on Guadalcanal. We make quite the mismatched group, but it’s no different than it was back home: you know how I attract outliers that make wherever they are feel like home. 

As I’m writing this, I’m certain that Commencement is on the way at Bowdoin. This is the second year since I was accepted that I haven’t been able to attend, and my heart aches to be among the students that I saw grow and learn, watching them leave with the diplomas that they put so much time and energy into. I know that you’ll express your pride in them enough to make up for my absence, and that’s the only thing that can console the longing that I feel. I can’t wait to be back in those hallowed halls whenever this conflict is resolved, as I find even now that I miss New England and its everchanging and nonsensical weather, if only because there are so many people that I love there. 

Warmest Regards, 

Andy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> andy actually frequently kept contact with people back home, especially the dean of students at bowdoin, his alma mater. the first sentence of this letter was taken directly from one of those letters that he wrote to paul nixon, an article of which you can read about that can be found here: https://www.bowdoin.edu/fromhere/news/haldane-antholis-mentorship-friendship-and-leadership.html  
> i once again must thank the bowdoin back catalog of their bullets for information found in this chapter: https://digitalcommons.bowdoin.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1220&context=course-catalogues.


	3. october 20th, 1943.

Leslie Haldane

160 Edgewood Ave

Methuen, MA

01844 

Dear Leslie, 

I’ve told you often, but there’s no replacement for your company out here. I never thought I’d be the type of sibling that was clingy, but sometimes I feel like you’re the only person who knows who I really am. I’m hiding so much of my truth just to be accepted. It’s like I’m surrounded by multitudes of our father--you can imagine the toll it’s taking on me. 

I know you’ll see through the words that I’m choosing and you’re the only person I can share this with. There’s this ~~boy~~ girl. Let’s call her...Edith. She’s a little crazy, a little distant, incredibly stubborn...but somehow, she’s also everything I’ve always wanted? Aside from you, she’s the only person in the world that sees me for what I truly am. I certainly don’t deserve her, which I’m sure you’re aware is extremely problematic. Just...don’t be surprised if I come home with someone. If not to meet Mom and Dad, at least you. To give you the comfort of knowing that I’m safe and happy. We just need to make it through this. 

Enough about me! How are you, Les? Mom told me about the bullies a while ago. Are they still bothering you? I told Mom to remind you of the instep-nose-groin move, but I’m sure she didn’t because of how badly she wants you to remain a ‘proper young lady’. To that I say: who gives a shit? Don’t let them take anything from you. You deserve the world and should settle for nothing less. 

Make me proud, Leslie. 

I love you, 

Andy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because of the fact that COs or other people in the military had the job of censoring mail, andy would've had to pretend that the person he was in love with was a woman, lest he want to have one serious and/or awkward conversation with a higher up. 
> 
> spot the reference to hillbillied's iconique fic, The Church of Saint Andrew. ;) it's a...minor reference but it's there.


	4. september 25th, 1944.

Sydney Haldane 

160 Edgewood Ave

Methuen, MA

01844 

Father, 

I know that you’re upset with me and that you’ll probably never forgive me, but I stand by my choices and I don’t need your approval. This is my yearly letter reminding you that I am, in fact, alive. I can’t tell you where we are, but it’s a hell of a fight that I’m no longer sure I will survive. I’m trying to stay positive for Leslie and Mom, but I know that you don’t care enough for it to matter. 

If I die, you’ll be contacted by a man named Edward Jones. You don’t need to know a damn thing about him other than that anything of mine that Leslie and Mom don’t want goes to him. Mom and the family lawyer have been notified as well. 

I know you won’t forgive me, but I hope you will at the very least respect my wishes. 

Andrew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can hear how this conversation went. 
> 
> eddie: things aren't goin' to replace ya.   
> andy: yeah, but i want to make sure you're as comfortable as possible when I'm gone.   
> eddie: yer not dying.   
> andy: .... -.-


	5. october 10th, 1944.

Reba Allison Jones

152 6th Street 

Rainelle, WV 

25962

Dear Mrs. Jones, 

~~I didn’t think I was ever going to have to write this letter. I thought that I would be the one to die.~~ It is with the utmost sorrow and deepest sympathies that I am writing to you, heart heavy, to inform you that your son, Edward Allison Jones, was killed in action earlier today: October 10th, 1944. He’d been wounded and was being brought back from the front line when he received a fatal injury. By the time Eddie got to me, he was gone. 

I’m truly sorry, Mrs. Jones. If I could trade his life for mine, I would do it in a heartbeat. ~~I will never love anyone again, not like I loved Eddie.~~ Your son was the bravest, most loyal man that I’ve ever had the pleasure of being in the company of. The military did not deserve him, none of us did. 

Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you and your family, it’s the least that I can do. His belongings will be sent home to you soon. 

I’m so sorry, Mrs. Jones. ~~I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.~~ I don’t know if there’s anything I can say to console you. ~~I can’t even console myself.~~ Your son was the greatest man I’ve ever known and the world is much dimmer without him. 

Let me know what I can do for you, 

Captain Andrew A. Haldane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we all knew how this was going to end, but it hurt anyway. :/

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a prompt from this post: https://looselipssinkshipsmeme.tumblr.com/post/640123632016932864/mail-call-42-fortnight-of-29-december-2020-new. 
> 
> also, bob dylan's song boots of spanish leather.


End file.
